


You Make Me Want to Stay

by deliriouslyshipping



Series: T'Cherik Drabbles [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 08:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14351805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriouslyshipping/pseuds/deliriouslyshipping





	You Make Me Want to Stay

The King watched with amused eyes as his cousin sparred. It had been a year and a half since he reclaimed his throne in the final battle. It had been a year since T’Challa trusted N’Jakada-Erik-to roam Wakanda without burning everything to the ground. And lastly, it had been a week since T’Challa realized, with the horrific truth spoken by his sister, that he was undeniably in love with the man.

Erik looked up briefly at him, and T’Challa coughed and looked away. He was not supposed to be watching his cousin in this fashion, eyes clinging to the flex of his muscles or the perspiration of his back. T’Challa glanced over to see Erik’s famous smirk sent in his direction. T’Challa messed with his beads until something that looked important pulled up and he directed his focus to that instead of the man who is making his mind go blank.

Bast help him-that the person that he has fallen in love with has to be Erik Stevens,

“Sup, Cuz?” N’Jadaka called from the door. He doesn’t ask to come in or if he is doing anything important before plopping down on the couch of the room. T’Challa looks up from the book he is reading and sighs.

“Hello, N’Jadaka,” and he gets an eye roll.

“Y’know, I would kill anyone else who calls me that.” And T’Challa knows that he is kidding, but cannot help the way that his body tenses up at the image of the man killing…again. There is more than enough proof that his cousin is perfectly able to take someone out without much effort. T’Challa still has the scars to prove it, as well.

“Then why am I an exception?”

“Dunno, must like you or something,” and that horrid warmth in the pit of his stomach reveals itself. How can something so simple and probably not true make him feel such a way? Before he can answer, Erik is changing the subject, removing himself from the couch and towards the bed where T’Challa lays.

“Sooo I heard Nakia is back from her mission. Aren’t you gonna go see her and freeze? Something around the sorts.” And T’Challa snorts behind his book, still pretending to read.

“Nakia and I are not together. We have not been for a long time. And I never freeze.” The lie comes easy on his tongue, but his throat closes up with the way Erik gives him an unsurprised face with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Sure, T,” the King winces at the shortening of his name, “Y’all may not be together, but you still have feelings for-”

“Do not shorten my name like that. I have no felt anything in that sense for her in a long time, for your information.” Erik raises his hands defensively and scoots closer to see what he is reading. Their arms touch and T’Challa feels like he is on fire, but takes no initiative to move.

“Have you felt anything in that sense recently, my King?” The title is in perfect mother language and his mind goes blank immediately. Yes, it’s you, almost falls from his lips, but instead he is staring at his cousin with an expression he wishes he could wipe off.

“You lied, T’Challa, you said you never freeze.” N’Jadaka smiles, full and pretty. The gold of his teeth reflects the sunlight in the room and his mouth goes dry. He takes two more seconds to compose yourself before answering.

“I do not freeze.” His cousin laughs, full and hearty. Heart flutters get repressed as he rolls his eyes.

“You’re funny. But imma be real with you for a second. We all know I am good at taking what I want,” and yes, the images cross his mind. N’Jadaka in the yellow and black suit, nearly killing his sister, and the words of “I want the throne.” They all return. “But you are not. You’ve had everything given to you with little to no effort.” His cousin gets off of the couch-T’Challa craves for that heat again- and stalks towards the door. Erik opens it and gives one more look to him.

“Maybe it’s time that you take what you want for once.” And he is gone. T’Challa places the book gently on the nightstand and groans loudly.

“Brother, you are an idiot.” Shuri rolls her eyes in the lab, working on yet another upgrade.

“How so? He is his own man and I am not making that sort of decision for him.” Shuri mentioned just kissing Erik, just to see how he would react. He is obviously against such idea.

“I’ve known you to freeze, but I’ve never known you to be so blind.”

“What in Bast name does that mean?”Shuri shrugged her shoulders, but he knew she was lying.

“Have you thought of returning the gold suit to N’Jadaka?”

“He would kill you if he overheard you saying his real name and why would I do that?” Shuri wraps the necklace around his neck again, telling him to turn it back on again. He complies and the suit wraps his body smoothly.

“Say his name,” is all Shuri says.

“What?”

“Just say it!” T’Challa rolls his eyes but says N’Jadaka nonetheless. Almost instantly, the gold necklace on the other side of the room transforms around the mannequin into the gold suit.

“I figured that perhaps you would want him on your missions. It’s a work in progress, but if you two become synced via suits then the coherence between you two will ensure the safety of you both.” T’Challa never thought about bringing Erik with him, but now he can see it. He can imagine Erik cracking a joke in the middle of it and T’Challa begging him to stay focused while they both handle their groups of people. He can see Erik wearing that necklace with so much pride.

“I may have to change the activation word, though. It appears you may be saying it a lot more soon and I would prefer if I didn’t see the gold suit every day or so.” T’Challa nods wordlessly and repeats the word again, deactivating the other suit before deactivating his.

“Thank you,” he says instead because everything else fails him. Shuri winks at him, patting his back and pushing him out of the lab to fix the kinks.

“Go talk to him about it. Do more than that if you ever get any balls!”

T’Challa walks to the one place he knows his cousin would be. He hears the slice of the air and the grunt of one man. The spear spins through Erik’s fingers was a ferocity and he, undoubtedly, has been practicing since his previous loss to Okoye. Erik notices his presence as soon as he entered the room and he smiles wickedly. He pauses to grab another spear and throws it in T’Challa’s directions. The King catches it with ease, removing his royal robes in the process. N’Jadaka moves into an offensive position and T’Challa spins the spear fluidly then snaps it downward, using two fingers to beckon the first attack. Predictably, Erik moves first, aiming for his side, which is countered easily.

“Talk to Shuri recently?” T’Challa asks mid-counter, breathless from the action. His cousin rolls away from the attack easily. He raises his eyebrows in surprise for the spark of conversation.

“No, should I?” Erik attacks again, aiming for the sweep of his legs. He jumps out of the way, but gets hit in the side because he knew that Erik expected the dodge. The hit makes him moves a few paces away, but he shakes his head in an answer.

“No. We have been discussing what to do with the gold necklace. You’re going to receive it back on some conditions.” Erik’s face lights up in interest.

“Like what? I don’t use it to take over the world again?” T’Challa furrows his eyebrows in the seriousness of the question. He knows his cousin would not do that again.

“I guess, but moreof that you use it for conventional reasons, such as accompanying me on missions.”

“You’re going to take me with you on your missions? As what, your second in command?” The hopeful look on his face made him smile and the spar was forgotten.

“If you want it, of course. You would not be my second in command, no one could replace Okoye’s position. You would be more of,” T’Challa pauses, “my equal.”

Instead of responding verbally, N’Jadaka smiles wider and positions himself again to attack. He blows a kiss to him and T’Challa almost gets pierced, thrown off guard.

“This is horrible, “ N’Jadaka complains as he looks on the holographic projection. The two had been working for hours on simulations on how the two are going to work together in a fight situation. “But there is worse,”

Both of them are sore beyond belief, but does not pause the simulation as more enemies approach them. Erik takes out the person to the right of T’Challa and he returns the favor by killing the man behind Erik that Erik almost failed to notice. They both know that Shuri is tracking their movements and their coherence as a team.

It doesn’t go over the King’s head as to how well they truly work together. The first time was sloppy with frustrated cries and a definite overkill. Now they move almost like they’ve remembered each other’s exact moves.

“Behind you,” Erik comments conversationally, flipping the man and punching him one good time, knocking him out. T’Challa huffs and turns around in time to catch the knife going towards his abdomen, throwing the man to another one approaching Erik. The two guys fall and Erik looks briefly at him in a silent thanks.

They finish off the final 50 and the hologram immediately shuts off to send the information to Shuri in the lab. Their pants fill the room now and Erik is the first to deactivate the suit.

“Damn,” Erik says as he chugs a whole bottle in one go. T’Challa tries not to watch. They do not talk for a few minutes, undecided on what to say.

“So how has your new thing been going?”

“What?” Erik shrugs, moving to grab another bottle from the almost endless supply.

“Shuri accidentally blurted out that you was in love and that you’re an idiot, “ T’Challa pauses, fear arising in his veins, “sucks that you wouldn’t tell me. I’m hurt, cuz.”

“W-no, no, no. I am not-”

“Bullshit, T.” A fire burns in the middle of T’Challa’s chest.

“I told you not to shorten my name like that.” He hopes it comes off as a warning, but it doesn’t seem to affect his cousin, who shrugs.

“Black Panther who acts like a kitten, oh the irony.” Then he has Erik against the wall, breathing heavily as he stares into his eyes. Erik looks defiant and it screws with him more.

“Do not make mockery of my name or my title, N’Jadaka.” His cousin struggles a bit, the strength of the Black Panther running through his veins and his emotions flared.

“Then stop being such a bitc-” T’Challa brings his head forward in a bruising kiss, and it was nothing like he first imagined it (perhaps it was better than the whole “I think I am in love with you” conversation). Nevertheless, the deed is done and his cousin is kissing him back with as much ferocity, hands gripping the back of his neck in a way that’ll definitely leave bruises. T’Challa doesn’t care at the moment, nibbling at N’Jadaka’s bottom lip, receiving a moan in response.

The temperature rose ten degrees as T’Challa pushed himself all of the way against his lover, hands roaming to the back of Erik’s thighs. As if he knew what he wanted, Erik hoisted himself up, wrapping his legs around T’Challa’s waist, never breaking away from the kiss.

He never wants this to stop, but he pulls away with one final kiss, but doesn’t let N’Jadaka down. Instead he places his forehead against his love’s, catching his breath.

“It was always you.” In his head, he had a whole speech about his eyes and what he does to his head and how he doesn’t freeze, but Erik makes him completely crystallized, but that seems like enough from the way N’Jadaka chuckles from under him.

“God, you are an idiot.” T’Challa begins to pull away but hands are right there, pulling him back for another kiss. “I’ve been waiting for you to do something for months. I wasn’t going to do anything, you might throw me back in a cell.”

“Never,” T’Challa replies with finality, but smiles because he truly is an idiot. The share a laugh briefly before a call comes on his beads. He places Erik down and accepts the call.

“HELLO! I think you two forgot your necklaces can track your heart rates and other stuff. I would prefer it if you don’t have sex in the training room please!” T’Challa chokes on words, his face flushing in embarrassment. Beside of him, N’Jadaka laughs loudly, reverberating around the room.

“My King, it is almost time for you to drop,” Okoye says from the pilot’s seat. He stands immediately and the side doors open in preparation. He peers at the ground below him. He feels arms wrap around him and a kiss to his cheek. A smile naturally reaches his features as he turns around to N’Jadaka.

“Are you ready?” But T’Challa knows the two have done this a numerous amount of times. All his lover does is wink. Their suits are activated, with exception of their helmet-which it will activate when they so choose to. The signal to jump is given and T’Challa turns back to the outside of the plane. T’Challa holds his hand out for his best friend to take, but instead he is tackled out of the plane.

“Really, Erik, this is serious!” But all he gets back is a laugh. The King smiles nonetheless and finds his lover midair and kisses him. Erik kisses back for about two seconds, then breaks it.

“Ndiyakuthanda,” and Erik disappears in the midnight sky to cover his flank. T’Challa stops thinking for a solid five seconds, still freefalling. He smiles wide and beyond happy, already excited to see his lover again.

“Bast, help me,” he says as he reaches the ground.


End file.
